


Alex

by Bellawritesfiction



Series: Hurts so good [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Drug Use, Gen, M/M, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Pedophilia, Poverty, Prostitution, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellawritesfiction/pseuds/Bellawritesfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is an original story. It is a sort of prequel to 'Hurts so good', and it is a fic about my original character Alex. I have been on the fence about publishing this, but I felt the need to tell his story. For those of you who have read 'Hurts so good', he is a familiar face, but this is a standalone piece. I want to write more about this family, so this could possibly be the beginning of a sequel to Hurts so good. I'm not making any promises, but I want to tell Alessa's story as well. A little girl growing up with werewolves... We'll see.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Sonya

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original story. It is a sort of prequel to 'Hurts so good', and it is a fic about my original character Alex. I have been on the fence about publishing this, but I felt the need to tell his story. For those of you who have read 'Hurts so good', he is a familiar face, but this is a standalone piece. I want to write more about this family, so this could possibly be the beginning of a sequel to Hurts so good. I'm not making any promises, but I want to tell Alessa's story as well. A little girl growing up with werewolves... We'll see.

Introduction

Huddled between two dumpsters, a young boy tried to make himself comfortable. It wasn't easy. His body was still aching from the beatings yesterday, and even if it was a summer temperature during the day, it was quite chilly at night. He'd been a bit cocky walking around in this big city. For the first time in years, he felt free.

Thirteen hours later, when the packed lunch was consumed and the sun was setting, he didn't have that same confidence anymore.

With about two hundred dollars in his pocket, he could have found a better place to crash, but he didn't know how long he had to stay away, so he needed to save the money for food and other necessities.

Shivering in his skimpy outfit – he should have brought a thicker jacket – he contemplated on calling his mom, but he didn't want to cave in just yet. He wanted her to know that he was serious about this, and hoped that she'd come to her senses soon.

She'd tried to contact him. He knew she would do that. He knew she'd be home from work around six, expecting him to be in the kitchen preparing supper. He could almost see her before him ascending the stairs to check if he was in his room. She would see the note as soon as she entered.

First, she sent a text asking where he was. He didn't reply. The note he'd left explained it all. When it started to get dark, she called, but he didn't pick up. Five times he rejected her calls before he turned the sound off. That was almost three hours ago.

At that time he was sitting in a park, watching people pass by, and he was still a bit excited over the feeling of freedom. Nobody seemed to pay attention to him, and it felt really good. Back home, he could hardly sit still for a half hour before his father – his stepfather – started nagging him about what he'd done or what he'd not done.

For the last couple of years, it felt like he was living his life on a tightrope. One missed step and he would fall. The previous eight years hadn't been easy either, but back then he'd at least got a warning before he got punished.

He only found solace when he could crawl under the covers in his bed at night with a book. He had to hide most of them from his stepfather. Anything that didn't have a Christian theme was banned in the house, so he kept them in his backpack and carried them back and forth from school.

Two days ago, he'd been a little careless, and had left the Oscar Wilde biography under a cushion on the couch. He totally forgot about it, and he never got time to retrieve it before it was too late. The beatings he had to endure was worse than ever before.

He didn't suffer any major trauma, which was probably just pure luck because his step-dad hadn't held back. In serious pain, he still had to cook supper, and the only thing that kept him on his feet was the hope that his mom would finally see what a monster she'd married.

When she came home a couple of hours later, she'd tended to his wounds. He begged her to take him away from there, but she'd made the same old lame excuses for her husband. He should have known. After making him promise to never bring those kind of books into the house again, she'd sat with him until he fell asleep.

The next day, he complained about the pain; his shining new black eye helped a lot, so she let him stay home from school. As soon as he was alone in the house, he started packing. He dug out an old duffel-bag from the basement and shoved some clothes and toiletries into it.

After looking at his backpack for a moment he decided to bring that as well. He didn't want to fall behind in school because of this, and decided to try to be a good student, even if absent.

He had saved up a few dollars himself, but it wouldn't last so long. He knew that his stepfather always kept a stash of cash in his office. The amount varied, but there should be enough for food for a few days. When he found almost two hundred dollars in the drawer, he wasn't sure if he should take it all. Contemplating about the punishment he'd be subject to, he soon realized that it wouldn't matter. Stealing two bucks or two hundred would earn him equal amount of beatings. Regardless, he was adamant about not coming back until his mom had gotten rid of the man.

Hitchhiking to the nearest big city, he felt powerful and cocky. When day turned into night, the temperature dropped significantly, and what had felt like an adventure, turned into serious worries.

He had to find a place to sleep, and was happy when he entered the alley behind a small restaurant. Between two dumpsters; being directly under the vents that brought some warm air from the kitchen, he decided to stay for the night. With some cardboard that he found nearby, he lined the space to avoid sitting directly on the pavement.

He was still cold, so he dug through his bag to find something to wear. The knitted sweater would probably not keep the cold out completely, but it would help. When he pulled it out, a piece of cloth followed. The little apron that his mom made for him when he was little brought tears to his eyes. He didn't remember much from before she met the man who became his stepfather; he was only four, but he did recall sitting on her lap as she sewed the white lace around the edge of the tiny little apron.

-o-o-o-o-

Alex always wanted to help out in the kitchen. It was quite cute how her little boy followed her every move as she cooked for the different parties she catered.

Sonya looked at him as her savior, and she never wanted to leave him, but she had to work to make ends meet. That she could do most of it at home helped a lot, but eventually, she'd have to leave him with a sitter.

Sonya had had a turbulent life until she got pregnant. As the only daughter of a couple in their early forties who thought they would never conceive, she'd been pampered and spoiled by her parents. Her father was the head chef at a renowned restaurant, and her mother managed a posh lingerie store at the fashion mall.

After a year being a stay-at-home-mom, Mrs Moretti went back to work, and they had to get a babysitter for their daughter. Sonya didn't remember any of this, but she knew that until she was old enough to attend preschool, there had been seventeen different nannies at the house. None of them were good enough. The last one stayed on for four months – a record – but they decided to keep her over the summer because they were tired of interviewing.

Sonya's years in elementary school had been awesome. She was one of the most popular kids, and everybody wanted to befriend her. She was the first one in her class to get a computer. By modern standards, it was barely usable, but back then it was the best thing since sliced bread. Everybody wanted to come to her house, and her parents didn't mind.

They lived in a pretty upscale neighborhood, and even if their house was the smallest one on the block, it was still the place to be for the preteen girls that Sonya surrounded herself with.

In middle-school, it all changed. Her mom had been acting kind of strange for a year already, so when she was diagnosed with early onset dementia, it didn't really come a surprise.

She had to quit her job, and for another two years, although Mrs Moretti was partially functioning, she needed constant supervision. For Sonya it was a downfall that she had never expected. That her mom was partially unable to take care of herself was one thing, but the friends she thought she had turned their backs on her, and didn't want to come to the house with the 'crazy' mother.

She wanted to switch schools. She wanted to be somewhere nobody knew her. Mr Moretti did understand, but because of the complicated travel arrangements, she had to wait until she got her own drivers license before she could transfer.

It was two years of ridicule, while her mom slowly withered away.

As soon as she – as a junior – set foot in the new school, things started to look better. She became popular again. She was the cute new girl that everybody wanted to befriend. And then she met Max. She didn't understand it back then, but he drew her into a world that would have killed her if she hadn't got pregnant.

Max was the older brother of one of her new friends, and the moment Sonya laid eyes on him, she fell head over heels in love.

Not only was he absolutely gorgeous, he was also experienced in a lot of things. That he already had spent a few weeks in jail for possession, made him even more attractive. It took a little while before he even noticed her, but when he did, Sonya was ecstatic.

A couple of months later the two of them became a couple.

While the rest of her new friends seemed to be struggling to scrape together a few bucks for cigarettes, Max always had money. It didn't take long before Sonya understood the reason why.

She should have walked away when she realized that her boyfriend was dealing drugs, but for some odd reason, she found it all too enticing. Before she knew it, she was knee deep in it. Max wanted to extend his business, and with Sonya's connections and her innocent appearance, she could deliver the goods to the classy part of town without arousing suspicion.

It all went well through high-school, but when her dad shipped her off to a culinary school things became a bit more difficult. At that time, her mom was in a nursing-home. Sonya visited her from time to time, but it was hard to constantly have to remind her own mother that she was her daughter.

Sonya had always wanted to follow in her father's footsteps. She'd worked at his restaurant every summer since she was old enough to work. During her teenage years, she'd even served as his sous-chef on occasion, and she'd been eager to attend the school her dad recommended.

When the time came, it wasn't so interesting anymore, but she did go regardless.

She and Max had been tasting the goods for a year already. In her own mind, she wasn't really an addict, but that changed rapidly.

Max came to visit her dorm ever so often, and the amount of different drugs they managed to ingest during those weekends increased significantly over time. When she was introduced to heroin, it didn't take long before they both started to shoot up.

When her boyfriend suddenly went AWOL, she had to get it herself, and she wasn't particularly proud of what she had to do to get the goods.

She didn't sell her body for money, so she pretended not to be a prostitute. In hindsight, she knew it was just technicalities that distinguished her from the girls on the strip. A quick fuck with a dealer to get some smack was easy to endure, so she put up with it to get her fix.

Two times she got arrested for possession, but the amount wasn't big enough to press charges. They tried to get her on prostitution, but those charges didn't stick either.

The last time she ever saw Max again was when he begged her to deliver a significant amount of heroin to an old acquaintance. He was on the police radar and had to stay out of sight. She still had a crush on him, and after a night of sweet sex, she decided to do it.

'Shit happens'; she got busted. This time, nothing could keep her out of prison. The two pounds of pure heroin earned her a six month sentence. She could have been stuck in there for years, but they did believe her when she told them what had happened. She had no qualms giving up Max, but he was never caught.

With only weeks to go before her exams, it could seem like her two years at the school were wasted, but again, things changed.

When it was discovered that she was pregnant, they offered to send her to a rehab facility. Her dad coughed up the money to send her to a good one, and she complied. During her months there, they also arranged for her to take the exams she needed to complete the Associate's degree in culinary arts.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Malcolm couldn't help feeling a moment of joy when Alex decided to vanish. The boy had been a constant worry, and it was actually somewhat refreshing not having the wanna-be-faggot in the house.

He strongly believed that the boy would come back soon, and Malcolm had struggled with himself contemplating what to do when he returned. He wanted to make good on the promise he gave Sonya – that he wouldn't lay a hand on him – but he wasn't sure if he could keep it.

Even if Sonya tried to downplay it, he knew that he was the main reason for Alex' disappearance. He knew he hadn't been treating the guy well, but it wasn't easy to stand on the sidelines and watch Alex walk straight towards hell. The boy needed a firm hand.

The saddest part was that Alex was genuinely a good kid. He did well in school, and the teachers praised him. He didn't have many close friends, if any, but the few times he'd been at someones house, the parents had raved about his manners and his wit.

That he was unable to behave like that at home was a puzzle. Not that Alex was misbehaving per se, but he kept digging into things that were none of his business, and his dramatic gestures could tick off anybody.

He had no regrets about the spanking he'd subjected the boy to. Alex needed it. Four years without a father had turned him into a sissy. The grandfather hadn't been much help, working long hours and diving into the bottle as soon as he got home, didn't make him a good role model.

Malcolm never met Sonya's parents. Her dad passed away only a few months before she came into his life, while her mom had been gone for a few years already. Sonya had still told him enough for him to draw his own conclusions.

He'd managed to put up with Sonya's ridiculous actions regarding her son for about two years. Buying him dolls and other girly toys was just not appropriate. The little incident with the neighbor girl eight years ago had infuriated him. She and Alex had obviously swapped clothes, and when he saw the boy on the couch in a dress, he knew he had to take action.

He wanted to love the boy. He wanted to raise him as his own, but Sonya and Alex hadn't made it easy for him. Malcolm had done his best to educate him, and the spanking became part of that education.

Punishment became a regular thing, and it seemed to work. At the age of eight, Alex had tucked away his dolls and had stopped raiding his mom's closet. He played baseball with the kids on the street, and even if he wasn't particularly good at it, he seemed to have fun.


	2. Ben and Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is thinking back. Two boys in church changed his view on a lot of things. The memories doesn't bother him so much anymore, but the scars are still there. The scars his stepfather inflicted healed faster, but they prevented him from being himself. That his mother didn't do anything to help him was even worse.

Fourteen years, one month and twenty-two days after his birth, Alex had left his home. He hitchhiked out of the little town where he'd lived with his mother and stepfather, and a few hours later he ended up sleeping on the ground between two dumpsters. The incident that lead to this, was only one in a row of many similar happenings.

For a few moments during the night, he started to regret leaving, but he knew that it would be impossible for him to fit the mold that his parents – mainly his stepfather – tried to squeeze him into.

He'd managed for a long time.

As a little boy, he soon learned to hide his personality to avoid getting punished. It wasn't always easy, and sometimes he slipped up, but the spankings became more or less a routine that he had to endure.

Eight years of punishment for the most ridiculous offences soon became a standard, but when he turned twelve, everything changed. Alex had started to question many of the things he'd learned in church. He also refused to go to youth-group. It was not an option, but Malcolm actually tried to make it easier for him.

Alex knew why he didn't get beat up over that. The secret they shared from when he was nine was probably still haunting the man.

Five years ago, Alex used to help his mom with the catering for the assembly. Even at that age, he was able to clean up the kitchen all by himself and was always left alone there when the meal was over and everybody gathered in the main room - the sanctuary - of their church.

One day, while he was putting away the dishes, he got unexpected company. Benjamin - the youth leader - had just wrapped up the teen-meeting, and came into the kitchen to grab some leftovers. Alex didn't hear him, and was strutting around as camp as he could never be around the rest of the congregation.

"What's with the girly moves? Are you perverted or something?" Ben's voice behind him startled him, and he froze up before he threw a peek over his shoulder. Benjamin was rubbing his crotch as he stared at Alex' ass. When Alex tried to scoot away, Ben moved over and stroke his back. "Relax, little faggot. If you like dick, I have treat for you."

Alex wondered if he should scream, but he wasn't sure if anyone would be able to hear him. With one hand around Alex' neck, Ben undid his own zipper, and his cock popped out, big and glistening. He tugged on it until a few droplets of precum emerged from the tip.

"It'll be our secret. I won't tell anyone that you want it." Ben's voice was raspy as he pushed Alex down on a chair. "Taste it!" He grabbed Alex by the hair, and aimed his dick towards his mouth.

Tears were running down Alex' face as he tried to come loose. He could hear singing from the main assembly room, and he knew that nobody would come in there to save him.

Suddenly, the door sprung open, and Malcolm came rushing in. "I left my notes for the sermon in here, I... What the..." He stared at Alex wide-eyed, before he shifted his gaze towards Ben.

For the first and only time in his life, Alex got comforted by his stepfather. Malcolm told Benjamin to leave and never come back before he stroke Alex' hair and let him wipe his eyes on his shirt. A few minutes later Malcolm had to go and lead the sermon, and they never spoke about it again.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

After the infamous incident at church, Alex didn't want to go there anymore. That wasn't really an option, but Malcolm had made sure that the boy was never alone with any of the elders, and he didn't let him help out in the kitchen anymore. For a while the two of them seemed to get a little closer, and for several months Alex got spanked only a couple of times.

Malcolm had to tell the pastor what had happened, and was happy to have his support in finding a new youth-leader. Pastor Wilkes was just as eager as him to keep this under wraps, so the rest of the congregation was never told what happened between Alex and Benjamin.

Back then Alex was too young to attend youth-group, and later, this became just a vague memory that he did his best to forget all about. Regardless, it was not the reason for not wanting to hang out with the teens in his church.

When he was six, he thought he was in love with the neighbor girl, but he didn't really know what love was back then. It wasn't until he met Sam that he really started to understand the meaning of the word.

Sam was the younger brother of the new youth-leader. He was almost fourteen and big for his age. All the teen girls in church wanted to sit next to him, but for some odd reason he preferred Alex' company. The two of them hung together like two peas in a pod during the assembly, and Alex knew that he was falling hard.

Only weeks before his twelfth birthday, and the age that would allow him to attend youth group, a horrible thing happened. The two of them were alone outside the church waiting for their parents to take them home. Alex was so sure that Sam shared his feelings, so he wasn't even scared when he stood up on his toes and kissed him.

Sam reacted as if he'd been electrocuted. He pushed Alex away and punched him in the face. He didn't get visibly injured, but he had to swallow a little bit of blood from the bruised lip. There were no need for explanations when the rest of the congregation came out, and after that, Sam didn't want to have anything to do with him.

Alex didn't say anything about what happened, and Sam had obviously not shared the story with anybody either, so he tried to keep a straight face through the services.

Youth group was a totally different story. When he two weeks later turned twelve, and was eligible to attend, he made a big drama about it.

It didn't help. Malcolm was surprisingly understanding, but demanded that he should be there.

Sam's behavior towards him changed Alex' view on him, and he fell out of love just as quickly as he'd fallen for him. It was still hard to see him, and he always tried to find excuses to not have to attend.

-o-o-o-o-

It had been a little scary to discover that he liked boys; he'd learned that it was a mortal sin, and part of him hoped it would go away. It didn't take long before he understood that it wouldn't, and he didn't try to push it anymore. He knew what he felt, and whatever they said in church didn't sway him.

Alex still tried to hide his personality, but it wasn't easy. He felt proud of who he was, and felt that he should have been able to be himself. He knew that he'd be spanked if he slipped up for a second, so around Malcolm he was extra cautious.

The regular spankings had started to seize. Alex knew that Malcolm though he was too old for it anyway, but on occasions he he had to endure it. It wasn't too bad, but then it all changed.

He'd been so good at hiding his personality that he thought that he could manage for another few years. He never looked at himself as a crossdresser, and he didn't get aroused by women's clothing, but ever so often he liked to spend time in his mom's room and play pretend. When Malcolm walked in on him as he posed in front of the mirror after raiding his mom's make-up bag, a new regime started.

Being hit on his bare butt with a stick, was peanuts compared to what he experienced that time.

First, he got a hard slap over the face before he got dragged into the bathroom. With a washcloth, Malcolm scrubbed his face until it hurt to make sure he got the makeup off. Alex got a few more punches before his arm got twisted up around his back until he could feel something snap.

He couldn't help his mom cooking supper with fractured wrist, but he did try anyway. He should have told her. Maybe things would have looked a little different now if he had done that. Or maybe not.

Eventually, Malcolm took him to the emergency room, but Alex had to lie and tell them that he fell.

While the fracture healed, Malcolm didn't touch him. Less than two months later, he got the cast off and he honestly believed that he was safe. Alex knew for sure that his stepfather got a scare when it happened, so Alex thought that it had been a one time thing.

Not even close.

An innocent flick of the wrist, or an accidental hum of a show-tune was enough to set it off. Alex wished for the spankings. It had been so much easier to endure. Now, the attacks could come as lightning from a clear sky, and for the next two years he had to watch his every step to avoid getting a beating.

Through middle-school, Alex's body had almost permanent black and blue marks. He was pretty sure that he had a couple of fractured ribs during this time, but he managed to work through the pain.

His mom knew, and that was probably the worst because she didn't even try to stop it. The teacher had at one point questioned his black eye and bruised lip, but Sonya had made excuses for it instead of standing up for him. After that, Malcolm made sure not to hit him in the face, and Alex didn't help himself much by doing his best to cover up.

 


	3. Mrs Smith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's rough living on the street, but after making a friend, Alex' life becomes a little easier. The old lady makes sure that he at least get a bite to eat and lets him use the facilities in the little diner where she works. After a few weeks, he decides to leave that neighborhood for a few different reasons, but when he goes to tell her...

Alex was frozen to the bone. As soon as the restaurant closed, the hot air from the kitchen ceased. At four o'clock in the morning, he decided to call his mom. When he looked at his phone, he discovered that there was almost twenty missed calls from her.

Hearing her voice was like touching heaven. At first, she was unable to form a coherent sentence, but as soon as her words started to make sense, Alex knew that he'd called too soon. "Me and Daddy are worried. He apologizes and he want you to come home."

There was no way he had apologized. Alex was pretty sure that his stepfather didn't even know how. Every time he got a beating from the man, Alex was the one who had to say 'sorry'. Sometimes seriously injured, he had to beg forgiveness for the actions that led to the punishment.

His mom was still ranting about her husband's willingness to let this slide, as she at the same time did her best to excuse his actions. Alex didn't want to hear it, so he hung up on her.

It wasn't easy to get up from the ground being so cold, but eventually he managed. It wasn't only because he was freezing, his body was still aching from the punches he had to take the other day. He scrambled together his stuff, and shivering all over he started to walk.

He didn't know where to go, he only knew that he had to do something to avoid freezing to death. Well, it wasn't that cold; he'd probably survive regardless, but sitting still in the alley was not an option.

When he found an open diner, he decided to get an early breakfast. His stomach was growling, so it seemed like a good idea.

The cup of hot chocolate thawed out his cold body, and the toast settled the hunger somewhat.

Alex didn't want to spend too much money, so he'd ordered the cheapest thing on the menu, which was toast and jam. It wasn't great, but he could go to a store and find something more to eat later.

He was the only guest in there. The woman at the counter looked at him rather curiously, but she didn't say anything. A young boy coming in at this time was probably not something that happened every day.

Trying to make the stay last as long as possible, he took small bites of the bread. The woman came over and asked if he wanted a refill of his cocoa, but he decided against it – he didn't want to spend the extra money – he asked for a glass of water instead.

When she brought it over, she also put a cinnamon roll in front of him. "Yesterday's batch. I'm gonna have to toss it anyway." She cocked her head to the side and smiled. "You should just go home. How bad can it be?" She picked up the empty cup and sighed.

Alex didn't know what to say. How could she know? "I, eh, I'm waiting for... hm, it's not like that." He couldn't take her stare anymore and looked down at the bun. "Uh, thank you though."

The woman shook her head and straightened herself up a bit. "Sorry if I got it wrong… if you're not a runaway, but I've seen that look before, and..." The sound of the front door distracted her for a second, and she greeted the new guests before she briefly turned to Alex again. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope I won't see you in here alone another time. You're welcome anytime though."

A tear was forming in the corner of his eye, and Alex hurried to turn away again. "Thanks, I don't think..." The woman was gone. She was already busy taking the order from the two police officers that had entered.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The first night after Alex left, Sonya couldn't sleep. She had no idea where her son was, but she hoped he'd gone to a friend's house. He was mature for his age, and wouldn't do anything stupid, so she decided to let him be for a while.

Her husband had been furious when he discovered that money was missing from his office, more so than he was about Alex' disappearance.

During the evening, he'd showed some indications that he did worry about his stepson, and wasn't so focused on the punishment anymore.

Two days later, Sonya wanted to go to the police, but Mr Johnson talked her out of it. He was obviously afraid of what Alex would tell them, and decided to look for him himself. Not that he ever admitted that he'd been wrong in punishing the boy; in his own mind, he never did wrong, but he probably knew that outsiders could look at this differently.

The short texts she got from Alex calmed her down somewhat. He was still alive, and seemed to be doing fine.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

One of the reasons Malcolm wanted to wait with reporting him missing, was so that Alex could feel how it was to not have a loving family around him. He wanted the boy to understand that his mother and stepfather worked hard to give him a what he needed.

Not that Alex had been spoiled; he'd had to do his share of the household chores, but in return he got a nice allowance, and could buy whatever he wanted.

It wasn't like they were rich. In this neighborhood, they were probably considered poor, so Alex didn't get as much as the other kids on the block. It was still plenty, and he never complained about not having his own computer or that he couldn't get the most expensive shoes in the store.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

After spending a few bucks in a thrift-store to buy an old blanket and a thicker coat, Alex counted his money and tried to set up a budget. It wouldn't take long before he ran out unless he could manage to get more.

He'd seen people sitting on the streets with their little cups begging for money, but he didn't feel comfortable doing that. Stealing was also out of the question, so he just had to hope that this street-life would be over soon.

One day, he would receive the call he'd been waiting for. One day, his mom was going to kick her husband out, making it possible for Alex to return home. So far, she hadn't mentioned it, but eventually she'd understand that he was serious.

Every morning, he went back to the diner, and every time Mrs Smith was there, she gave him some of the baked goods from the day before. She also let him sit there without ordering anything, and she kept a lookout when he used the restroom to wash himself.

The two of them had talked a little bit; Alex had told her that he was going home soon, but he had to wait for his mom to get rid of the abuser.

Mrs Smith was surprised when she learned that Alex was fourteen. He was small for his age, and she'd thought he couldn't be much more than eleven. Not that it mattered so much, she still thought he was too young to live alone the streets.

Days became weeks. His mom called ever so often and begged him to come back, but he stood firm. For some odd reason, she didn't contact the police. He suspected that these phone calls were to thank for that. The white lies he gave her about his life seemed to calm her.

He went to the library every day. If he kept his head down and kept quiet, he could sit there for hours on end without anybody paying attention to him. He found different spots where he could be all by himself, and he soon learned the schedules of everybody that worked there so he could make sure that he wasn't spotted by the same person for more than a couple of days in a row.

He knew it would look a little suspicious finding a young boy between the shelves during school hours, so he never went there until late afternoon.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Alex had started to look at Mrs Smith as a friend, but he didn't trust her completely. She was nice and supportive, but she kept urging him to go back. Some of her questions were a little too prying, and after about a month he didn't go there so often anymore.

He'd never really told her the whole truth. He had lied about where he was from, and he'd never told her his full name because he worried that she would contact his family.

She'd also started talking about his mother, and how she felt about this. He told her that he was in constant contact with her, and that she'd promised to get rid of his stepfather.

Mrs Smith worried about him living on the street, so he lied to her and said that he'd found a place to stay. He promised her that it was in a real house with friends, and he had no problems hiding the truth from her.

The truth was that he was still stuck in that alley. He was so sick and tired of not having a real bed, that he sometimes contemplated on doing what Mrs Smith urged him to do, but he decided to wait and trust his mother to have a plan.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Begging became a necessity. Even if he tried to be frugal, the money eventually ran out. Alex didn't want to turn into crime to get food, so he had to find another way.

He dressed up in his best clothes and started asking random people for a buck or two. He told them that he was running away from an abusive father and need money to catch a bus to his older sister.

That lie worked well and he used it for all it was worth.

It ended abruptly when a woman knocked the cup out of his hand and started yelling. He didn't recognize her, but she'd obviously recognized him. "Two weeks ago, you were getting a bus. What are you still doing here?"

It became a turning point. Not that he was worried about the woman telling on him; she had no idea who he was, but he realized that he had to find other pastures.

He left the neighborhood, and started searching for another place to crash, and that's when he met the boys.

Alex wasn't sure if these guys were the right crowd to hang out with, but they had a place to stay, so when they invited him in, he went with them.

It wasn't half bad. They had a roof over their heads, and Alex got his own spot in the abandoned building they called home.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Keeping Alex' disappearance secret wasn't easy. Sonya didn't want to lie when they called from school to inquire about his absence, but with Malcolm hovering over her, she told them that Alex was sick.

They served the same little lie in church, but she knew it couldn't go on for long. Both she and her husband expected Alex to come back soon anyway, so they kept up appearances and lied through their teeth for another week.

The few times she talked to Alex on the phone, she begged and pleaded with him to come home, but he stood firm. He told her that he was doing fine, and that he was staying with a friend. Sonya couldn't understand which friend this was, because she knew for sure that he wasn't with any of the kids from school.

He also told her that he was studying, so he'd be ready to go back to school as soon as she kicked Malcolm out.

That's when she decided to take matters into her own hands, and prepare for Alex' return.

One couldn't really call it stealing. The money she now started to put away every week without her husband's knowledge was going to be her safety net. Secretly, Sonya also started catering again, and every penny of her earnings went into the savings account. She set it up in Alex' name so that her husband wouldn't be able to touch it when she eventually left him.

When Alex started school, she'd started working full time in the restaurant where she'd worked alongside her dad in her teens. She'd picked up a few shifts before, but it wasn't easy with a toddler at home, so her main source of income back then was the catering business.

It was nice having a regular schedule, but sometimes she missed the adventures she had coming to peoples' homes to serve them.

When Alex refused to come home, she contacted some of her old clients, and managed to scrape together enough customers to cater one or two days a week. She could only do lunches because of her work at the restaurant, and she had to make time to clean up properly before her husband came home.

She kept in touch with Alex, and she promised him that one day she'd make it possible for him to come home.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

While he was settling in his new digs, Alex hadn't been at the diner. Mrs Smith's questions had freaked him out a little, but he decided to at least go and say goodbye before he left the neighborhood for good.

She wasn't there.

The young woman behind the counter told him that the old lady had left to live with her daughter in Phoenix. "She was supposed to leave sooner, but..." The woman shook her head. "She helped out on the night-shift for free until we could get somebody else."

It was devastating. Alex was on the brink of crying when the woman widened her eyes and grabbed his sleeve. "Are you Alex?" She stared at him until he nodded, and then she asked him to wait while she got something from her purse in the back.

"She waited for you for the longest time, but eventually she had to leave. She told me to give you this." She handed Alex an envelope that had clearly been opened before. The woman behind the counter looked down, somewhat embarrassed. "Sorry. I just..."

Alex didn't care if anybody had seen what was inside. He reached his hand out and took it as he tried to keep a straight face.

It was almost a hundred dollars in there, together with a neatly handwritten note.

_" Dear Alexander. If you get this, I'm sorry. That means that you didn't go home, and I think it's wrong. I've instructed Mia to look for you, and told her to donate the money to a worthy cause if you don't come by within the next two months. Take care. Love, Mrs S."_

The words brought tears to Alex' eyes. He turned the note over and tried to compose himself. After taking a couple of breaths, he looked at the paper again. The few words on the back made him choke up again.

_"Ordinary riches can be stolen;_

_real riches cannot._

_In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you." O.W._

Alex recognized the quote immediately, and he smiled through the tears. Mrs Smith obviously knew him better than he'd thought, and now she was gone.


	4. Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex finds friends on the streets, and one of them takes care of him in a way, although at more than one occasion Alex is the carer. The next few months of his life is adventurous and filled with love and commitment, but it's also complicated and sad. Alex learns new skills that helps him in his life on the streets, but they do not help him much when shit hits the fan.

Alex was squatting with the young boys in an abandoned building by the docks. It was nice to finally have a home even if it wasn't equipped with power and running water. That his housemates were dabbling in drugs and prostitution, didn't matter. He kept mostly to himself in the beginning anyway, but even if he didn't share their vices, he found friendship there.

Peter – the oldest one – had lived on the streets for five years already, and he took Alex under his wings. The guy was a hard core drug addict, and made his living from petty theft and prostitution. He warned Alex about getting into it, and he protected him as if he was a big brother.

Alex fell in love. He followed Peter around like a puppy, and after learning a few skills, he helped him unload some extra cash from the clients.

When Peter sucked off a guy in the alley, or got fucked in their sleeping quarters, Alex 'accidentally' walked in on them. Threatening to tell the world about these clandestine encounters, the men dug up more money to silence him.

Peter got beat up more often than the rest of the boys. Not only was he sometimes too wasted to actually perform, but he had a foul mouth and pissed off pretty much everybody he came in contact with.

Alex was never swayed by it, and was always there to take care of him and tend to his wounds. He wanted Peter to stop this path of self-destruction and be with him, and only him. There was just one small problem – not counting the addiction – Peter was straight. There were more money in soliciting guys, so he did it to support himself, but he never got aroused by a man, or a boy for that matter.

When Peter got sick, Alex did his best to get enough money for the two of them, but begging didn't really bring the income that they needed to support Peter's habit. Food was never a problem. Over time, he'd learned to steal anything he wanted from the grocery stores, but he never had enough to score any heroin for his friend.

Delirious from withdrawal symptoms, Peter went out one night to take care of the matter himself, but ran into unforeseen problems when he approached one of his regulars outside a crowded bar. The man was not to happy to be solicited in public, and attacked Peter.

The beatings left the boy lifeless on the street, and before Alex managed to get him out of there, the police came. With all the witnesses gone, they had no proof that Peter was a hustler, so they would probably not arrest him.

Worried about his own skin, Alex ran away, but not before he'd overheard one of the police officers stating that they'd bring Peter to the emergency room.

Alex didn't know what ER he'd be brought to, but he was pretty sure that Peter would end up at the general hospital eventually.

It was a long walk. The sun was crawling it's way over the rooftops in the east when Alex finally found himself outside the front door.

Straightening his clothes, he looked up at the building before he entered.

He got absolutely no information from the woman behind the counter. With only a first name and a vague description it wasn't much they could do. That he didn't know Peter's last name was a major problem, although he didn't know if the guy had even used his real name when he got signed in.

Tired of walking all night, he lied down on a bench in the little park next to the hospital. He knew for sure that someone would chase him away eventually, but at the moment he had no other option.

"I was there when they brought him in." The soft female voice startled him, and he sat up abruptly. A young woman – or girl – was standing next to him. "He is very sick and he has a fractured clavicle, um, eh, collarbone."

Alex rubbed his eyes and stared at the girl. "Who are you?" She shook her head. "Not important, er, I'm Sally, I, I work there, um, or, well, I'm in school, in college. I just... I have work practice."

She looked down for a second. "I have seen this before. These boys coming in with injuries they got on the streets. We patch them up and send them on their way, and nobody asks for them." She cocked her head and sighed heavily. "You are my first. If you're here tonight at ten, I'll try to get you in there."

Alex was there at ten.

Trusting Sally to stick to her promise, he'd gone back to their nest to get some sleep. After sneaking into the botanical garden to steal a couple of roses, he decided to spend a few bucks on a bus-ticket because he was too tired to walk through the whole town.

Sally delivered.

Alex walked into the room with the flowers as a shield. He worried about what he'd see. Peter was strapped to the bed, and Sally warned Alex not to unlatch him. "He is dangerous. Not to you... not to me, but to himself."

Somewhat alert, Peter started crying when he met Alex' eyes. "Pneumonia. Silly really. A bit of antibiotics, and I'll be fine." He sniffled a little before he turned away. Alex looked at Sally who was still standing by the door. "Is it true? Will he be fine?"

Sally shook her head slowly. "Sure." She was about to exit, but Alex ran over and grabbed her wrist. "You're not convinced?" He stared at her for several seconds before she twisted herself loose. "If you're his lover, you have to get tested."

She was gone before Alex understood what she was talking about. Peter looked like he was sleeping, so Alex darted out of the room to catch up with her.

"Pneumocystis pneumonia. He has AIDS. We can't save him."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Four months after Alex' disappearance, while she was getting ready to go to cater a brunch at a law-firm nearby, Sonya was overwhelmed with nausea. She puked three times before she was done. She knew exactly what was going on, and after a long day's work, she cried herself to sleep.

She could take money out of her savings and get an abortion, but it was a serious step. Keeping the pregnancy a secret from both Alex and her husband wasn't easy, but she needed time to decide.

Christmas came around and again, she begged Alex to come home. She couldn't make herself get rid of the baby, and she didn't want the struggles of being a single mom again, so she decided to stay with her husband.

It was hard to have to tell Alex, but she hoped that he'd believe her when she explained that his stepfather had changed. He wasn't so angry and rigid anymore, and he'd promised not to lay a hand on Alex when he returned.

Her son wasn't fooled by it. He'd cried and begged her to reconsider, and he'd told her that if she didn't, she would never hear from him again. Sonya wanted to tell him about the baby, but she decided to wait until she could look him in the eyes.

She talked to him a couple of times after that. He claimed he was doing fine, and that he had a place to stay.

When it was impossible to cover up the pregnancy anymore, she made one last attempt to get him to come home. She didn't know it would be the last, but the next time she called him, he didn't pick up. She kept calling several times every day until someone finally answered. She'd paid his cell phone bill up to this point, and got scared when she heard a slurred but distinctly unfamiliar voice on the other end.

The man told her that Alex had sold him the phone, and that he had no clue where the boy was now. Sonya canceled the payments and contemplated again on reporting him missing. The pain inside her was very real, but for hours she thought it was a reaction to the knowledge that she'd no way of contacting Alex anymore. When she started bleeding, her husband rushed her to the hospital.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Christmas came around, and Sally left to visit her parents. When the hospital were unable to do anything to prolong Peter's life, he got transferred. He was moved to a hospice, and Alex was welcome there for Christmas eve. As he sat there watching Peter sleep, he got a call from his mom. Again she begged him to come home, and at that moment he wanted nothing else than to be held by her.

There was no way he was going to leave Peter, but he almost caved in. It was before she told him that she wasn't going to leave her husband anyway. She claimed that she had a good reason, but she was not willing to share it until they met. Alex hung up on her and dug his face into Peter's pillow. For the last time in his life, he got comforted by the guy as he cried silently.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Peter died alone in hospice care.

As the New year came around, his condition had rapidly worsened. There had been attempts to contact his parents, but the letters hadn't been answered.

Alex had visited as often as he could; Sally had found new calling and had volunteered at the hospice during this time, and they were both there only days before Peter drew his last breath.

They knew he was dying. Peter was very aware of it also, but those last few days, he'd been mostly unconscious.

During the short glimpses of alertness, Alex had made sure that Peter knew he was there. He'd clenched his hand and done his best to comfort him. He didn't know if Peter could even hear him, but he professed his love, and could have sworn that he saw a smile on the guy's face.

Sally promised to take him back there the next week, but it was too late.

Alex didn't have any funds to give him a proper funeral, and even if the hospice had tried to track down his family, they never succeeded. Two weeks after his death, he got cremated and his ashes would be stored at the coroner's until somebody claimed it.

Alex wasn't a relative, so he couldn't do anything.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A long time after Peter's death, Alex felt like he lived in a bubble. He had shied away from the other boys and tried to make it on his own. That life was leading them towards the same fate as Peter, and Alex didn't want to be a part of it.

He slept at the building ever so often, but if he'd been reclusive before, he now made it into an art-form. The couple of calls he got from his mom; that he didn't answer, made it all worse, so eventually he got rid of the phone.

Sally had done her best to help him, and she was really the only person he talked to during this time. She became a safe haven.

It was her last semester in nursing school, and she still volunteered at the hospice. For a moment, Alex thought about following in her footsteps. She even offered to tutor him through high-school, and she suggested that he could stay with her in the dorm that the hospital provided for the temps.

Alex was tempted, but he didn't want to be a burden. Signing up for school was never really an option regardless. His name on any papers would probably get him shipped home to his parents in an instant.

When the going got too tough, he still crawled his way to Sally's place. She pampered him and fed him, but when she got a boyfriend, it became a little too awkward for both of them.

He still saw her ever so often, but when she got her nursing degree, she moved back to Minneapolis where she was originally from. Her parting gift was a pre-paid cell phone. It was a nice one. It had bluetooth and wi-fi, but he himself had to find the money to keep it.


	5. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonya and Malcolm finally decides to report Alex missing. After a whole year gone, it's not easy, and there is no real leads.

After Sally left, Alex was just drifting around. The weather was nice and he could sleep outside, but he was always on the lookout for a place to crash when winter came along. After almost a year on the streets, he'd completely given up on his mother, and was determined to make it on his own.

He didn't need much money, and he managed fine by stealing food and begging for money on the streets. He got a few sleazy offers from old men, but even if the amount of money they were willing to give him was more than generous, he was never really tempted. Losing his virginity that way wasn't an option.

These guys were pedophiles, and they thought he was even younger than he really was. It brought back that old memory of what had happened in church when he was around nine, and he cringed when he thought about it.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sonya couldn't cater anymore, and she had to cut down on her hours at the restaurant, so the savings-account didn't increase much.

She still had the house. After her mom died twelve years ago from Alzheimer's, her dad's health had started to deteriorate also. He was alert and managed to do his job, but was told to cut back on fatty foods and booze.

Sonya and Alex lived with him at the time, and she tried to help him, but it was too late. The massive heart-attack he suffered walking home from work one late evening took his life instantly.

Alex was just a toddler, and without her dad's financial support, Sonya had to increase her income. That the house was fully paid for helped, but the money he left her only lasted a few months.

She was still catering, and did her best to get more clients. When she got a regular gig at the pentecostal church, she started to attend sermons there also. They couldn't pay much, but they were nice people. That one of the girls there offered to look after Alex for free so Sonya could work more helped a lot on her decision to join.

The young, handsome, and single preacher took an interest in her, and it didn't take long before they became a couple.

Malcolm had treated her like a queen when they first got together. He had been the perfect gentleman, and even if Sonya was more than ready for him, he wanted to wait until they got married.

The way he treated her after learning about the pregnancy, resembled the 'old' Malcolm. He'd been extremely supportive and could hardly wait to meet his daughter. His own flesh and blood growing inside Sonya's belly seemed to have changed him.

He hadn't laid a hand on her since she told him. Not that she got a lot of beatings from him before – he spent most of his anger on Alex – but it was nice how he pampered her during the pregnancy.

The scare they got when she started bleeding turned out to be unfounded, but she was urged to rest as much as possible.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

When Sonya suggested that they should make more of an effort to find Alex, Malcolm was still on the fence, but he wasn't so negative anymore. He felt partially responsible for the whole thing, although he would never admit it out loud.

To lie to the congregation had never sat well with any of them, but they couldn't tell them that Alex ran away. With some forceful moves towards her, Sonya had agreed to tell them that Alex was sent to a boarding school.

It was a little more difficult to explain his disappearance to the school, but for some odd reason they bought the tall tale Malcolm gave them about the need to send Alex to a Christian, private school.

Sonya never told Malcolm about Alex' conditions for an eventual return, and she never would. Back when she contemplated on leaving her husband, she thought she could get away without him understanding the real reason.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Her husband spent a lot of his free time trying to track down Alex, and it had made her think that he'd changed. The anger had dissipated, and instead, she'd seen concern in his eyes.

Even if Alex hadn't mentioned anything about it the note, she wondered if he'd left because of the talks about the camp and the boarding school. Her son could have overheard them discussing it, and that could have been an extra trigger.

Malcolm had realized that he was unable to beat the 'gay' out of Alex, and had suggested a conversion camp. Sonya was far from convinced, but she didn't want Alex to suffer anymore, and had reluctantly agreed. There was also a boarding school for troubled boys, where Alex could get guidance and follow-ups from people with experience. It all fell apart when they realized the cost.

That Sonya at one point in time had mentioned this school to one of the teachers, was probably part of the reason they believed it when they tried to explain his disappearance.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Malcolm had never thought that Alex would be gone this long. He wanted to teach the boy a lesson, and let him try it on his own for a couple of weeks.

When those weeks turned into months, Malcolm started to think that his theory was wrong. Sonya was a mess, and he knew that they would probably have to do more to find Alex.

He was actually about to agree to report him missing, when Sonya told him about the baby.

It was almost unnerving how easy it was to let his stepson go. As soon as he learned that his own flesh and blood grew inside Sonya's belly, Alex practically vanished from his mind.

For a long time, Sonya didn't talk about Alex. Malcolm knew that she had been in contact with the boy for a while after he left, but he had chosen to turn a blind eye to it. If she could manage to get him to return without any fuss, it would be for the best.

She was excited about the pregnancy, but for a long time, his wife had had a sadness about her that made Malcolm a bit suspicious. He knew she missed her son, but lately it had seemed worse. After sneaking a peek at the call history on her phone, he realized that she hadn't talked to Alex for months, and he understood her pain.

Sonya had tried to cover up that she was still paying Alex' phone bill, and he had let her believe that he didn't know about it. When he discovered that it was canceled, he realized that the boy was now truly missing. He didn't want to ask his wife about it, but he wondered if Alex could be dead.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Well into her third trimester, Sonya again started talking about finding Alex. She had been too worried about losing the baby to dare confronting Malcolm about it during the spring. Even if he had been sweet as pie the last few months, she knew he was genuinely unpredictable, and could snap at any given time.

With a new baby on the way, Malcolm wanted to be a better person. He wanted to let Alex' shortcomings slide, and agreed to contact the police.

The embarrassment of reporting Alex missing so long after the disappearance, made Sonya postpone it a little longer, but eventually she did.

The detective had been very suspicious about the postponement, but Sonya told them that she'd been in contact with Alex for a long time after his disappearance. She prayed silently to God for forgiveness when she lied and claimed that she talked to him only last month.

Without any knowledge of where he was, it wasn't easy to know where to search. They didn't seem to eager to pursue the case, but fliers were made and inquiries were performed.

The quest was fruitless. She had no idea where he was and couldn't really provide the officers with any information. She told them about the phone, but that turned out to be a dead end. That her water broke mid interview didn't help much either.

She got a few updates on the search during the following couple of months, but eventually it ceased. With a colicky baby, Sonya didn't have much time to pursue it anyway.

Her husband's support didn't go far. He didn't beat her or bother her, but he didn't help much either. She pretty much had to take care of Alessa by herself. Malcolm picked up more work at the church, and spent most evenings away from the house.

When the old pastor had a small stroke, he decided to retire, and Malcolm was first in line for the position. The youth-minister was moved up to be a preacher, and the teen-group needed a new leader.

Malcolm was doing the interviews for the position, and he was extremely picky. It could almost seem like he didn't want to hire anybody. In the meantime, he led the group himself. Sonya knew that he was hardly the best choice for leading the youth group, but she didn't complain. She actually preferred to be alone in the house.


	6. Mr X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex didn't want to become a thief, but necessity brought it on. He would never ever become a prostitute, but life on the streets is tough and when you need money...

 

Sometime in September, Alex ran into one of Peter's old clients.

He had just found a nice spot to stay over the winter, and needed some supplies to make it a home. Peter had showed him this place a while ago, but had told him that it was a little too risky to stay there for an extended period of time.

The basement was humid and dark, but it didn't matter. The elderly couple living upstairs in the small house had probably not been down there in years, and Alex knew he could be quiet enough to stay without anyone noticing.

Over time, Alex had managed to maneuver a couple of pallets in there. The window he used as an entrance wasn't big enough to get them through, so he had to take them apart before he shoved them in. It wasn't easy, and it took almost two weeks before he had made something that could be called a bed.

He couldn't just walk through the yard in broad daylight, so he had to be very clever about it,

The house stood alone at the end of a cul-de-sac. There were no immediate neighbors, and the plot was surrounded by trees. The yard itself was overgrown with shrubbery and weeds, so if he took the long way around he could get there unnoticed, but not with too much to carry.

He'd gathered some blankets and an old sofa-cushion, but he wanted to find a proper mattress. He also needed a flashlight or something, because it was impossible to see anything in there at night time. He had a candle, but it didn't provide much light.

Alex didn't know if he should dare to cook food down there, but if he could get hold of a kerosene burner he'd at least have the option.

For almost three weeks, he barely ate, saving up as much money as he possibly could. He didn't like to ask people for money, it was easier to just sit with a cup, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

He soon discovered that even if most people just brushed him off, a few of them took pity on him and gave him more than he'd asked for. He soon learned how to pick them, and what lies to tell them to make them cough up some cash.

The sob-story about his dad kicking him out because he was gay seemed to work wonders on the young ladies. It also worked very well outside the gay bars, but some of the guys there offered to take him home for the night, and he was so not ready for that.

On his way home one night with a nice little bundle of cash, he recognized Peter's customer. It was one of the guys they had conned to give them extra money. Alex was pretty sure that the man wouldn't remember him, so he decided to approach.

As he was about to open his mouth, the man grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him towards an alley. Alex got scared and wondered if he was going to get raped or beaten or if something else bad was going to happen to him.

"Are you crazy boy? Not on the street. You can't just..." He sighed heavily as he let go of Alex. "Where's your friend? Haven't seen him in a long time." Alex shrugged and took a few steps away. He didn't want to tell this guy about Peter. "He, um, he got out. He moved back to his mom."

The man looked at him as if he didn't believe him, but then he nodded slowly. "Good. That's good." He reached out for Alex again. "So how much? Do you keep the same rates as him?"

The man was obviously under the impression that Alex had approached him to sell sex, and he got a little thrown. "Uh, no, um, I just need money, but I don't... I don't do that." He tried to take a step back, but the man stopped him. "I'll give you money. More than you've made before. You're such a cute little thing."

It was okay. The man only wanted to touch his skin as he jerked himself off. He tried to get Alex to grab his penis, but when Alex shook his head, he didn't force him any further.

Alone in the alley again, Alex counted the money, and was surprised by the amount. Without doing anything but allow that clammy hand to roam over his torso, he'd now had enough to buy everything he needed for his humble abode.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Alex had a very strict schedule. He crawled into the basement long after dark, and he spent a few hours reading and eating before he went to bed. He slept until noon and after a simple breakfast, he spent some time studying. Late afternoon, when everybody living on the street were in their houses having supper, he snuck out and went to the library.

He didn't have a library card, but he still 'borrowed' books. He made sure to put them back in the right place before he shoved new ones into his backpack. At one point, one of the librarians started asking questions, but he had become a skilled liar. He told the woman about his abusive mother and the three little siblings at home. He managed to squeeze out a tear when he with a trembling voice explained that he had to come there to be able to do his homework in peace.

When she asked him if he had a library-card, he explained that he wasn't allowed to bring any books home because most of them were the devil's work. That wasn't so far from the reality he'd experienced before he ran away, and real tears started to run down his cheek. The woman left him alone after that, but she gave him a little bit of a leeway and he felt more comfortable being there when it was her shift.

He left before they closed, and the rest of the evening he spent getting food and money. He stayed away from the strip where the young male prostitutes were hanging, and he managed fairly well by begging and stealing.

He ran into Peter's client a couple of times during the fall. Alex never knew his name, but in his head he just called him Mr X.

The guy seemed to respect his boundaries, and even if he tried to push it a little, he accepted the terms. Alex had to take off his shirt and let the man fondle his body, but he didn't let him get below the waistline.

If he'd just dared to reach a hand out to jerk the guy off, Alex could have made double the money, but he cringed by the mere thought. He still got more than he could make in a whole evening begging for money, so he was satisfied.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It didn't take long for Alex to understand that he was heading down a dangerous path. The extra money was like a drug. He could spend more time reading and relaxing if he could manage to make some extra cash the easy way.

He knew it wasn't 'the easy way' really, but he could understand why most of the kids on the street ended up as prostitutes.

One simple hand-job payed enough to feed him for two days. He had to walk the streets begging for hours to make the same amount, so it was tempting. He knew that other panhandlers made much more than him, but he wasn't interested in spending hours on the streets. As long as he had enough to get by and could put away some money for emergencies, he was satisfied.

Alex soon learned that his virginity was rated very high. The johns were willing to pay an obscene amount of money to fuck a clean, young boy. That was definitely not an option. Losing his virginity would only happen with someone he loved.

It was still very tempting to expand the business.

He knew that it wouldn't take long before he looked too old for those who were willing to pay double for a minor, but he'd seen enough to shy away from that.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Alex woke up early from some ruckus upstairs. It was highly unusual; the couple there normally kept really quiet, so he knew something was going on. Peeking out, he could see an ambulance parked on the street, and he wondered if one of his cohabitants were about to draw the last breath.

He knew they were old and fragile; he'd seen them several times, and he was amazed that they were actually able to take care of themselves.

Alex couldn't just sneak out at this point. It took about a half hour before the paramedics left, but then a whole other circus started.

Two cars parked in the driveway, and multiple people came out. Alex worried. He wondered if the new arrivals would stray down to the basement, and he spent a half hour hiding his things so they wouldn't get suspicious. Then he crawled out and hoped that it wouldn't be the last time he came there.

At nightfall, he came back, but the two cars were still there. A man was walking around in the yard talking on his cell and smoking a cigarette. It was impossible to find out what was going on, so Alex decided to stay away for a little while longer.

It was a cold October night, and he wasn't sure how to make it through it without warmer clothes. That's when he ran into Mr X again.

The man soon perceived that Alex was in a bit of a pickle. When he asked what was the matter, Alex didn't want to tell him, but then he caved in and said that his living-quarters had been compromised, and that he had to stay away for a few more hours.

Mr X offered to take him to a hotel, but Alex knew what that would entail, so initially, he declined. The man promised to not push him; he just wanted to help, so eventually Alex complied.

He had to wait for half an hour before he snuck through the lobby and entered the elevator. On the thirteenth floor, Mr X was waiting for him, and they walked together to the room.

Two older men were waiting inside. As soon as Alex stepped through the door, he knew he'd been conned, but he couldn't just turn around and run. Mr X was effectively covering the exit.

There was only one thing to do: Pretending to be in on it.

Alex did a performance of a lifetime when he reached his hand out and asked for the payment up front. "You don't expect me to do this for free, do you?"

The men chuckled a little as they measured him. "Not at all." They dug out a decent amount of money each and handed it to Mr X. "Give the boy what he deserves, he's a fine specimen."

Alex started to undress to make them believe that he was going to go through with it. His hands were shaking, but he didn't think anyone noticed. He just needed to get a free passage to the door, and he'd be out of there.

Mr X tucked the money into his pocket and hung the jacket on the hatstand before he moved over to help Alex with the buttons. "I knew you'd understand. These are nice guys, they won't mistreat you."

Fighting to keep the tears away, Alex nodded slowly. "I'm happy to not have to sleep on the street. Thank you." He felt the taste of bile in his mouth as the words came out because he was so repulsed.

He only needed a second, and he got it. On his way towards the door he grabbed Mr X' jacket, and then he ran. He didn't even bother with the elevator. Alex went straight for the emergency exit and practically flew down the thirteen flights of stairs.

He was pretty sure that the three men wouldn't make a fuss if they caught up with him in the lobby, but he was very cautious as he peeked out around the corner. He thought it was clear, but then he saw Mr X on the outside, so Alex turned around and went straight for the restaurant.

It was late and only a few tables were occupied. With his head held up high, he walked through the dining room and entered the kitchen. The two guys in there seemed to be too busy to even notice him, and before anyone could stop him, he slipped out the back door before he ran as if he had the devil on his tail.

Alex didn't stop until he was back in his own neighborhood. There were still cars in the driveway of the house, and he could hear chatter from inside, so he hid in the bushes for a little while to make sure it was clear.

There, he emptied the pockets of Mr X' jacket. In addition to the cash that the other guys gave him, the man had a nice little bundle in his wallet, and Alex pocketed more than three hundred dollars all together

The jacket itself was more than a couple of sizes too big, but it was warm so he decided to keep it. The wallet and the cell phone would be dumped in a random mailbox far away from there, and maybe it would be found by an honest mailman.

He needed to find other pastures in order to avoid running into the man again, but with the money he possessed at the moment, he had plenty of time to figure out what to do next.


	7. McKayla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is nervous about crashing into Mr X again, and stays home for the most part. Every so often he has to go out, and on one of these trips, he runs into an old acquaintance.

There had been a police raid at the building where the street-boys resided, and two of them had been arrested.

The news traveled like wildfire through the underbelly of the city. Alex had pretty much been keeping to himself, living off the money he stole from Mr X, but he soon caught wind of what had happened down at the docks.

Everything they owned had practically been bulldozed out of there and dumped. It wasn't the first raid ever, but the police were not too keen on going after these kids, and they had never been this thorough.

The owner demanded them to do it ever so often, but the inhabitants were always warned ahead of time. This was different. The building had been on the market for four years, and was finally sold. The new owner had went there himself to inspect, and when he found the two boys, he'd called the police before he gathered his own crew to clean out the place.

Alex knew that the guys were roaming the streets searching for a new place to crash, so he was happy he didn't have to go there and accidentally run into any of them. He couldn't risk having them come to his little basement apartment, and he didn't want to have to turn anybody down.

After the drama upstairs last week, everything had calmed down again. By eavesdropping, he'd learned that the man of the house had had a small stroke. He'd spent a few days in the hospital, but now he was back home. Their daughter had arranged for someone to come help them with chores a couple of times a week, but it didn't really change much for Alex' situation.

He still snuck out every afternoon to go to the library. He avoided the crowded streets and walked through the back-alleys. He'd taken a break from panhandling, and if he was frugal, he could live of off the money he'd stolen from Mr X for a good while.

He did his shopping at a small convenient store a half a mile from his room. A couple of chocolate bars and other nick-knacks found their way to his pocket unnoticed, but most of the food he actually paid for.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

On his way from the library one day, he thought he heard someone call his name, and he ducked down before he panned the alley he was in. He couldn't see anybody, and for a second he believed that he must have imagined it.

"Alex, please!" The sore, pleading voice startled him. He could still not see who was talking, but curiosity made him walk towards where the sound seemed to come from.

"Mig...uh, McKayla?" Alex almost tripped over an outstretched leg, and saw a familiar face from long ago. It was one of the kids from the docks. He looked down and realized that she was badly beaten, her beautiful face was covered in blood and her make-up was smeared.

The first time he met the guy, Alex was absolutely sure that it was a girl. He dressed rather provocatively, and there was no doubt that there were real boobs under the tight tank-top. Not big ones, but nonetheless, real.

The curves were also very feminine, and there was never a trace of facial hair on his cheeks or chin.

Alex later learned that he – or rather she – was transgender, and that she was in transition. She had been on a heavy medication regime for years, and the only thing left to make her a real girl was reassignment surgery. Alex didn't know what that entailed, but out of curiosity he'd done some minor research at the library to get an idea. It was a long time ago, and he hadn't had much to do with her, so he pretty much forgot all about it.

Alex didn't quite understand the concept. He himself liked dress-up, and he'd played with his mom's make-up kit, but he never wanted to be a girl. Sometimes he envied the fact that girls had more choices in clothing, and they could wear makeup whenever they wanted without getting weird looks.

McKayla was different. Peter had told him that the guy's real name was Miguel, but as Peter said: "Don't even dare to use it. He, um, she looks small and fragile, but there is a real punch in that little fist."

Cradling McKayla in his arms, he suddenly started to understand. This was a girl. So what if she had a penis, she was still the most girly girl he'd ever met.

Blood was seeping down her thigh, and Alex realized that her attackers must have hurt her down there. He didn't want to look, and he worried that the injuries could be fatal if he didn't manage to get her to a doctor.

"Can you stand up? We need to get you to the ER." Alex put an arm around her waist and tried to lift her. She wasn't heavy, but Alex wasn't particularly strong. "NO! I'm okay. It's not as bad as it looks."

She managed to get up, but had to lean heavily on Alex' shoulder. "It's just a small cut. I just need some bandages, but I have nowhere to go."

Alex knew that taking her to his place would be risky, and twisted his brain to find a solution. Blood was dripping down on the pavement as they maneuvered through the alley, and Alex knew he had to do something.

Behind some bushes in a small park, he started to undress, and gave McKayla his t-shirt before he put his jacket back on. "You have to try to stop the bleeding. Use this." Then he turned his back towards her and waited. He had no idea what happened, but a few minutes later he felt a tap on his back. "Thanks. It works."

The street was dark and quiet. It was way past midnight, and Alex was pretty sure that nobody would see them entering the yard from the woods in the back. He was still a little ambivalent about taking McKayla to his place, but he didn't see that there was another option. He didn't want to leave her in that condition.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

McKayla had no clothes other than what she was wearing when he found her. "The police took everything." She had told him how it was to come back to the building and find it boarded up. One of the guys had managed to get inside, but everything they owned had been dumped.

She knew the risk, so she always carried her money and her medication with her. She also had a small make-up kit and a change of underwear, but other than that, she was completely robbed.

Alex didn't have much to offer either. He had a few changes of clothes, but not anything that looked even remotely feminine.

The sweatpants and the t-shirt he lent her wouldn't do if she wanted to go out and get any customers, so Alex took her clothes to the laundromat. He also had to buy more food, and even if he had a little extra at the moment, he wasn't too happy about the spending.

-o-o-o-o-o-

A little more than two days after her arrival, McKayla wanted to get back in the game. She had stayed in the basement, tending her wounds and trying to apply makeup to cover up the bruises on her face.

Alex knew that she was a prostitute, and he didn't like it. He knew he couldn't just talk her out of it, but he tried anyway. In spite of their little disagreements, McKayla turned out to be an excellent roommate. She understood that she had to be quiet and that she couldn't just go out whenever she felt like it.

When Alex came home after hours in the library, she had tidied and made food for the two of them. It was like having a wife, and Alex liked it. He knew it couldn't go on forever; they had to find a way to get some income, but he didn't want her to have to sell her body.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

That evening, before they both snuck out into the night, he learned a little more about the girl. Alex' reluctance to let her hit the strip had moved her, and she sat down and told him her life's story.

Her mom – an illegal immigrant – had practically jumped through hoops to make sure that her son was born in the US. She'd wanted a better life for him than what she had in Mexico. The boy – Miguel – had from an early age known that his body didn't fit him, and he demanded to be brought up as a girl. His mom had been very understanding; or maybe she just didn't care, and let him wear whatever he wanted.

Before puberty hit, it hadn't been much of problem anyway. That she had a penis wasn't such a big deal until it betrayed her. When she woke up one night with an erection, she'd tried make it go away by taking a knife to it. "It was failing me, and I didn't want it."

The damage wasn't that bad, but she had to go to the hospital. A doctor there took pity in her and helped her get drugs that would postpone puberty and – as he'd stated – buy time. It didn't come without a cost. The doctor sexually abused McKayla for three years, while he administered the medication.

Her mom didn't care. At that point in time, she was turning tricks to support her own drug habit, and didn't even know half of it.

During those years, McKayla – that she insisted to be called – met a few other trans-people at the clinic. One of them helped her order the needed drugs from Mexico, and by following in her mother's footsteps, she managed to scrape together the funds to get the transitioning medication.

As soon as that was organized, she ditched the abusive doctor.

"When I have enough money for the surgery, I will get off the street, but in the meantime, this is what I have to do."

With the delayed puberty and starting so early on the pills and injections needed, she'd kept her high-pitch voice, and the few strains of facial hair could be easily plucked.

Once a month, she received a shipment from Mexico that she had to pick up at the post office in the city. A regular job could have payed enough for the drugs, but she was adamant about getting the surgery sooner rather than later, so prostitution was for her the only option.

Through all this, and against all odds she had managed to graduate high school. It hadn't been a cakewalk. Everybody knew that the girl wasn't really a girl; the bullying and ridicule had been a tough burden to carry, but with a stubbornness and tenacity of a jackass, McKayla had prevailed.

At that time, her mother was so deep into her own drug addiction, that she was barely able to take care of herself. McKayla did her best to support them, but many nights she had to go to bed hungry.

The only thing that saved her from complete starvation was the free lunches she got at school.

She wasn't even surprised when her mom didn't show up for her graduation; it wasn't like she wanted her there anyway, but it was kind of sad watching the other kids with their proud parents while she stood alone.

Back home in their dingy one room apartment, she wanted to show her mom the diploma, but it was too late. She found her curled up on the bed, as if she was just taking a nap. The needle was still in her arm and clenched in her hand she had a greeting-card.

'Miguel' was written in bold letters on the front, but she'd made an effort to scratch it out and replace it with 'McKayla'.

After calling 911, McKayla pried the card out of her mom's hand. She didn't want it to get lost in the commotion that would occur when the police and the paramedics came.

There was nothing they could do. Her mom had been dead for a couple of hours already, so they didn't even try to resuscitate her.

McKayla had to go to the police station. They soon established that no crime was committed, so after a few hours she was allowed to return to the apartment. That's when she finally dug the card out of her purse and read her mom's last words.

"I love you. I'm proud of you. I'm sorry, but I always wanted a girl, so when they told me I was going to have a boy, I prayed to God, hoping that they made a mistake. It's all my fault. He listened to that one prayer, and it became burden for you. Forgive me for making your life so difficult. No matter what, you will always be my baby."

Two days later, the landlord came to collect the rent. McKayla never really knew how her mom paid for the place, but she soon found out. When the man offered her the same terms, she was ready to pick up where her mom left off.

It took about three seconds for the man to discover that the young girl wasn't really a girl, and after getting punched in the face, she got only one hour to pack up her things and leave.

That's when she ended up at the docks.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Alex left every afternoon a few hours before McKayla. After spending time at the library, he did his best to scrape together a few bucks before he returned. He didn't dare to spend too much time out in the streets in fear of meeting Mr X again, but he managed to get enough for a late night meal.

The place was always spotless when he came back. When McKayla came home a few hours later, he had dinner ready. They always ended the night by reading to each other before they turned in.

They slept close together on the narrow bed; there was nothing sexual about it, and it made Alex feel safe. If Peter had been like a brother, McKayla stepped in a became a big sister.

It didn't last so long. Crawling in through a small window to their living quarters far from the strip didn't work well for her in the long run. Alex knew that she was constantly on the lookout for another place to crash, and she succeeded sooner than he was prepared for.

Their cohabitation lasted for three awesome weeks, but then one night when he came back, all her things were gone. She left a hundred dollars and a letter on the bed, and Alex cried himself to sleep after reading it.

"Dear Alexander.

You have been the best roommate ever, and I'm going to miss you profoundly. I decided to just leave like this because dragging it out would only hurt more. Think of it as ripping off a band-aid.

I'll probably see you around, but I hope you'll be back with your mom soon. You are not cut out for this life. You're too pure.

Love, McKayla."


End file.
